


Heart Racing, Hands Shaking

by Solemnly_Swear (Fitzsimmonsx)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentioned Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin) - Freeform, Modern Era, Worried Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 17:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzsimmonsx/pseuds/Solemnly_Swear
Summary: Merlin hates Arthur (really, he does), but Arthur doesn’t seem to hate Merlin as much as he’s supposed to.(aka a coffee-shop AU where Merlin and Arthur have a problem that needs fixing)





	Heart Racing, Hands Shaking

Morgana’s coffee shop is wonderful and cozy (and usually Merlin’s favorite place), but Merlin hates it right now.

He’d originally gotten the job as a stopgap to save up a bit of money while taking classes at university. In his head, he’d even imagined sending money home to Hunith- alright, not from the part-time coffee shop job, but from the inevitable full-time job he’d acquire after his hard work at uni paid off. One year later, though, Merlin is nowhere near that dream. Finals are approaching, but so are living expenses, and Merlin is working back-to-back shifts to make the money. He’s determined not to ask Hunith for help- although whether that’s to prove something to her or to himself, he’s not quite sure.

It doesn’t matter either way. There are only two more weeks and then Merlin will be free of studying for the length of summer vacation. He’ll apply for internships and jobs and maybe even visit home- but it all rides on his final grades. Merlin’s been revising for weeks of course, but his shifts at the coffee shop haven’t left much time for it.

Morgana is kind and intelligent but also wicked strict. Merlin knows she’d probably be willing to make an exception, but it’s his responsibility and he does his best to cram between shifts and at lulls during the day.

It hasn’t helped, however, that Merlin seems to have contracted a cold, and from the person he hates the most. He’s already taken a decongestant and some other flu medication so he won’t put off customers, but it bothers him deeply that Arthur has already recovered from his cold (as is clear from his over enthusiastic flirting with Gwen, the barista.)

(Really, Merlin doesn’t need to know what his coworkers get up to off shift. Gwen is perfectly nice, but clearly she’s shite at romantic choices.)

Arthur is Morgana’s younger brother, and also a clotpole. Merlin had discovered the first only moments after first insulting Arthur (thankfully, Morgana had simply seemed amused and Merlin had kept his job). The second, however, had been a bit of a disappointment.

It wasn’t that Merlin had liked Arthur- anyone who wore rugby jerseys unironically and on a daily basis wasn’t Merlin’s type. It was just that there had been a hint of something in Arthur’s eyes when they’d first met. Merlin had had a feeling that they’d get along once Arthur stopped being such a prat, but it had turned out that Arthur‘s pratness was all there was to him.

Ever since the incident, Arthur had been either mercilessly teasing Merlin or ignoring him. The other day, he’d even had the nerve to ask if something was bothering Merlin, a question that Merlin didn’t even dignify with a reply. And now the flu. (Merlin secretly knows some of the blame for the flu is on him, but it is much easier to blame it on Arthur in his sleep-deprived, cold-ravaged, desperately-revising condition.)

Merlin checks the schedule, muttering terms from his study guide to himself, and allows a smile when he sees he’s on shift with Lance. Lance is one of the few friends Merlin has made at the shop apart from Gwen- he’s kind but not overbearing and loyal to a fault. And his smile had made Merlin like him immediately.

With Lance on shift, Merlin reckons he’ll be able to review his note cards while ringing up orders without any complaint. At lulls, sometimes Lance even covers both registers for Merlin while he works on coursework. It’s a two-way deal: Lance has a ginormous crush on Gwen and his position at Merlin’s register brings him closer than he usually is.

(Another reason to hate Arthur: everyone can see that Lance likes Gwen and Merlin has a feeling Gwen would like Lance too if she’d give him half a chance.)

“Hey, Merlin,” Lance says, swinging the back door shut behind him. He slaps Merlin on the shoulder and glances around the corner before turning back.

“I hate to switch on you today, Merlin, but I made a previous commitment with someone and I don’t think I can work today.”

Merlin takes in a merciful breath of air- the medicine is working- and looks Lance over. His clothes are nicer than usual. He’s in a button-down shirt with slacks and even his hair is slightly less messy than usual.

“Do you have a date?” Merlin asks, slightly disbelievingly.

“Yeah, actually.” Lance is trying to be casual, but Merlin sees the way the tips of his ears are turning red and grins.

“Congratulations.” He means it. Even if it’s not Gwen, Lance deserves someone good in his life. “Of course I don’t mind you switching shifts.”

Lance hesitates still. “Are you sure, Merlin? Arthur’s the only one available now. I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but we all know something’s up.”

The prospect of a shift with Arthur practically destroys any hope for a good, productive day, but Merlin knows Lance will work the shift if Merlin asks. Lance deserves this. “It’s fine, nothing’s up. Go have fun, you deserve it.”

“Thanks, Merlin.” Lance pulls Merlin into a quick hug and then he’s off to the front of the shop, presumably to talk with Arthur.

The exhaustion from late nights studying is hitting Merlin, and he resists a yawn. If he’s going to work a shift with Arthur, he wants to be alert and making as little mistakes as possible (Merlin had started as a server but been relegated to his place behind the register due to an unfortunate accident with several trays and some hot coffee- most days, Merlin manages to avoid mistakes altogether. The habitual punching in of numbers is much less risky than serving and Merlin appreciates Morgana’s help.) Merlin makes himself a double espresso shot just to be sure and downs it with a grimace at the bitter taste.

“Merlin,” comes the familiar voice.

Merlin simply nods and makes his way over to his register, willing himself not to look over.

He loses the battle, of course. His self-control has disappeared along with his alertness and health. Presumably he’ll get it back after finals, but for now Merlin is content to send glances at Arthur.

Surprisingly enough, he’s not wearing a rugby shirt today. Just a normal red shirt, something that even Morgana would approve of. He looks a bit tired, but Merlin figures that it’s none of his business. Merlin is more tired anyways, seeing as Arthur has gotten him sick, and Merlin has no sympathy.

“Look, Merlin-“

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Merlin says, averting his gaze to the barista area. “Where’s Gwen?”

“She’s off on a date.”

“Oh.” That doesn’t connect. “Aren’t you two...?”

This time, Arthur bristles in annoyance and his usual condescending tone slips back into his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean, _Merlin_?”

Arthur’s gaze on him is cold and unyielding, and Merlin sighs. He’s too tired for this. And too sick. “What, do I have to spell it out? Aren’t you two involved?”

“ _Involved_?” Arthur actually laughs, and Merlin looks up in surprise. “You really are a complete idiot, Merlin.” He turns, as if he’s done, and then turns back after a moment, eyes gleaming fiercely. “You know what, I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. Making things up, though- this is on you. Don’t try to blame it on something else.”

“This is on me?” Merlin says lowly. “How is this-“

The bell on the front door rings, incongruously cheery, and a customer walks in. The conversation’s over. Merlin turns back to his register, willing his heartbeat to slow down, and smiles at the customer. “Hello, welcome to Pendragon’s. What would you like to order?”

 

By the time the first ten customers have come and gone, the caffeine kicks in. The shop is colorful and loud around Merlin and he can feel his heart rate responding to the caffeine. His mind is less sluggish, too. It’s a familiar feeling, reassuring in the mess that has been his day so far, and he takes a breath to look around the shop and breathe in the smell.

“Merlin.”

Merlin turns, disbelievingly. It’s Arthur.

“Your hand is shaking.” The words, though grudgingly admitted, hold a hint of concern, and Merlin looks at his hand to see that Arthur is correct.

“It’s nothing,” Merlin says. The frazzled nerves have clearly gotten to him at last. He glances over at Arthur and then reminds himself he doesn’t care and faces the register.

After the next few customers, it becomes clear that there’s something wrong. Merlin’s heart is pounding rapidly in his chest and he feels slightly nauseous. He’s almost certain that the rest of the shop can hear his heartbeat, or at least Arthur, but no one gives any indication that that’s the case. He waits it out until the next lull, thinking of the look on Arthur’s face if he bails beforehand (although, quite honestly, Merlin’s not sure where he stands with Arthur at the moment), and finally makes his way towards the back when the stream of customers lessens to a trickle.

He slides down the wall by the schedule, a bit shaky, and takes a deep breath.

Damn it, was it the cold medication? He hadn’t checked for an expiration date or anything, he’d been too tired to care. Or was the caffeine too much for him to handle? He hates coffee but he’s as well-acquainted with it as any self-respecting uni student is, and an espresso shot has never had this sort of an effect before.

Is it a heart attack? Is Merlin going to die in the back of a coffee shop and be discovered hours later when Arthur finally realizes Merlin’s left him to fend off-

“Merlin.” There are warm hands on his shoulders. He lifts his head to see Arthur staring back at him, concern written all over his face.

“I’m okay, I’m sor-“

“No, I’m getting the distinct impression that you are not okay, Merlin.” Arthur gives a dry laugh, but the look in his eyes is not at all amused. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Merlin says, taking another deep breath and wishing it will all go away. “You can’t leave the registers right now.”

“Yes I can, Merlin. Have you forgotten who I am? I’m the owner’s brother, I can close shop whenever I like.” Once upon a time, Merlin would have snorted at this, but Arthur’s too close and the look in his eyes is surprisingly soft. “What have you done this time?”

Merlin bristles. “What do you mean what have I-“ Arthur gives a half-hearted smile and Merlin rolls his eyes and then leans back when everything begins to feel dizzy. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“Alright. What have you had to eat recently?”

“Nothing,” Merlin says. When he gets an irritated glance, he amends, “I didn’t have time this morning, but I don’t think that’s the problem.”

A pause. Then, grudgingly, “You’re right, this seems like something else. What else have you ingested?”

“A double espresso shot.”

“It could be that, but it doesn’t seem like it. Are you sensitive to caffeine?” This question comes with a warning glare- Merlin knows if he says yes, Arthur will berate him for working at a coffee shop.

“No,” Merlin says truthfully. They’re both silent for a moment, Merlin trying to take deep breaths and drown out the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

“You have the flu, right?”

Merlin nods and regrets it when the nausea worsens. “Yes, what are you on about?”

“Did you take any medication?”

“Some flu medicine and a decongestant. Why-“

“ _That’s_ it,” Arthur says, groaning. “You’re not supposed to combine decongestants with caffeine.”

“Oh,” Merlin says. It’d slipped his mind earlier, and he’s relieved he’s not having a heart attack, but he still feels horrible and now he feels like an idiot on top of it. “Sorry. You can go back to the-“

Arthur gets up and makes his way to the front and Merlin pretends he’s not disappointed. So the argument is back on. The truce had been nice, he has to admit. He’d almost forgotten that Arthur could be caring and dryly amused and the like. Maybe not a complete prat, although Merlin’s too miserable to sort out what it all means.

Merlin can see the lights in the front of the shop go out from his vantage point and he’s surprised when Arthur walks over and gingerly sits down next to Merlin.

“Aren’t you working?”

“No, I closed up for the day. Some fool mixed drugs and is experiencing side effects.”

Merlin elbows Arthur in the side but lets it go. He closes his eyes and feels Arthur’s warmth against his side.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Arthur asks quietly.

Merlin shifts over, away from Arthur. “You’re the one ignoring me. I was just returning the favor, since clearly you don’t want to-“

“Wait, what?” Merlin rolls his eyes, but a glance at Arthur’s face shows genuine confusion.

“I gave you my number. After.”

“After we _kissed_ , Merlin,” Arthur says irritably. “You can at least say it. And yes, I’m aware, I texted you seven times and called twice and you never replied.”

This time, Merlin pauses in confusion. “What? I checked my texts and there was nothing. I thought you weren’t-“

“Let me see your phone.”

Merlin glares at Arthur but pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it over. Arthur pulls out his phone as well and taps at the screens, pulling up the messaging app on both. He stares at them both for a moment and then laughs.

“What?” Merlin’s had it. He pulls Arthur’s phone out of his hand and stares at it for a moment before a reluctant grin spreads across his face.

“The wrong number,” He mutters to himself. Then, to Arthur, “Really? You typed it in wrong?”

Arthur sends him a glare but he’s still smiling, looking as relieved as Merlin feels. “We all make mistakes, Merlin. I seem to remember an incident with a couple trays of-“

Merlin elbows him, harder this time, and Arthur doubles over, still laughing.

When he finally sobers up and leans back against the wall, Merlin catches his eye.

“Is this- are we doing this, then?”

“ _It’s_ called a relationship, Merlin, use your words.”

“Prat.”

A pause, and then quieter, “I really like you, Merlin. I don’t want to do this if you don’t-“

Merlin catches Arthur by the collar of his shirt and presses his lips against Arthur’s, hesitatingly and then more demanding.

When they pull apart, he leans back against the wall and attempts to hold back the grin that’s threatening to take over his face.

“I like your shirt,” he says, “but what happened to your rugby jerseys?”

There’s no reply and when Merlin looks over to see what’s wrong, he’s surprised to see that the tips of Arthur’s ears are turning pink.

“You said you didn’t like them. I knew you were annoyed at me, but I didn’t know why, so I figured...”

The grin finally bursts out onto Merlin’s face, and when he leans into Arthur, Arthur puts his arm around him. His heartbeat is finally returning to a normal speed and he’s content to just relax like this, happy as he hasn’t been for weeks.

“For the record,” Arthur says later, “This doesn’t change anything. You’re still a lowly servant and I’m- hmm, for argument’s sake, I’m like a prince. You won’t be getting any benefits-“

Merlin snorts. “Oh, shut up, will you?”

“You shut up, Merlin.”

“Real mature.”

Merlin feels Arthur’s laughter against him and grins, settling closer. Arthur might be a prat, Merlin decides, but he’s Merlin’s prat, and that’s all there is to it.


End file.
